The Case of James Carmichael
by Lady Estelle
Summary: [Conan Doyle style short story] Before Irene Adler, there was another Woman. Holmes narrates to Watson one of his early cases during his days on Montague Street, and reveals why he refuses to bow to emotions when it comes to women.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_

The dates and corresponding events mentioned in this story are based on "A Chronology of Sherlock Holmes" by William S. Baring-Gould, compiled by  
James Hoy, MD (found online via search engine)

This story (Watson's narration) takes place in the year 1888, closelyfollowing the events chronicled in _The Sign of Four_ and _A Scandal in Bohemia._

* * *

_**The Case of James Carmichael: Part 1**_

As many of my readers are aware, Sherlock Holmes had already established a well-respected position as the world's only consulting detective long before I had the fortune of sharing a living quarters with him. After the account concerning "A Study in Scarlet" appeared in the papers with his credentials, the number of his cases increased exponentially. Even after I had left Baker Street following my marriage to Miss Mary Morstan, I frequently corresponded with Holmes, as I was loathe to cut off my ties with my friend. In fact, I was rather pleased with his rising popularity, for this kept his hands away from his dreadful seven percent solution and syringe. However, I soon began to doubt the effectiveness of the constant activity my friend put on his brilliant mind, for when I would appear to call upon the fellow, I found myself waiting for hours on end in the parlour for Holmes to appear from his expeditions around the London area, oftentimes leaving alone in disappointment. Other times, he would be in his rooms smoking his pipe for hours on end, brows furrowed and eyes closed, ignoring my futile attempts at conversation. As a physician, I put in a few suggestions to eat and to replenish his energy, although he would either refuse to acknowledge my presence or would give me such a dangerous glare that I would hurriedly retreat back home to my wife's more amiable company.

At last, the level of cases began to wane and Holmes found more time to catch up on matters outside of crime. I followed the opportunity to call upon him at Baker Street, and found myself sitting in the parlour smoking a pipe with Holmes in high spirits once again.

"I say, my dear Holmes, I cannot seem to recall the last time we properly sat down and had a smoke together," I remarked.

"That would be February of this year, if I am not mistaken," he lazily replied, "How is Mrs. Watson?"

"She is still as winning as ever," I said, eyes twinkling.

Holmes gave a low chuckle.

"Ah, yes, Watson, your affinity towards women will ever be a hindrance should you ever desire to grasp the true science of deduction."

"In the end, you cannot deny that my instincts were right about her, Holmes."

Sherlock Holmes left his place from his chair, and retreated into his bedroom. He reappeared with his familiar tin case box and, after a moment of rummaging through it, casually tossed a packet into my lap.

"Here you will find one of my earlier cases not long after the Musgrave Ritual, in which I believe you will find a fatal flaw in letting emotions and outward appearances take over calculated reasoning, however cold it may seem." He gave a sigh and said, "You have seen me fail before, Watson, when I overestimate my own abilities and fail to act quickly enough upon my instincts. The case of Irene Adler should remind you of it, I'm sure. The case sitting in your lap ended almost in tragedy, and actually did in certain aspects, as I was still young and not yet hardened and wary enough of a woman's abilities."

I carefully opened the packet in my lap. In my companion's powerful script was written, "The Case of James Carmichael, November 1879", followed by pages of notes, some jotted down rather hurriedly as though they were scribed in moments of inspiration.

"As you can see, Watson, I strictly stayed to the cold facts of my cases when I took the time to pen them instead of romanticizing them like you tend to do."

"Your style of writing is so unemotional that one would think he was reading an epitaph than a sensational crime," I retorted, "I would much rather have you tell me the story yourself."

Holmes leaned back among the cushions in his armchair and took a long, satisfactory sniff of his shag tobacco before beginning:

"Very well, Watson. As you know, this case is dated nearly nine years ago, when I was still a student finishing up my studies at the University. I was living in Montague Street without the reputation that I possess today. However, I did find myself confronted with cases brought upon my attention by various acquaintances that I made throughout my university career. One such acquaintance was a doctor, not unlike you, Watson, who would visit me should I fall ill, however rare the occasion. He was a kindly fellow and took great care of his patients, many of whom were close friends of his. Doctor Theodore Brighton was his name, as you can see among my notes. He has had some exposure to my rising capabilities in deduction, and so appeared at my doorstep one rainy afternoon in November. I showed him into my rather cluttered sitting area, which then doubled as a makeshift chemical laboratory for my various experiments. After accepting a cup of tea to warm himself, he explained his reason for his visit.

" 'Mr. Holmes, I apologize for this sudden appearance, for I am at my wit's end. You are aware that I have a busy practice, and I have seen all that can be seen, or so I believe. My relations with my patients are strictly professional, but I do have one patient, Mr. James Carmichael, whom I have gone to boarding school with as a young man, and with whom I have stayed close friends ever since. He was married for almost ten years when his wife died of consumption, leaving him with three children. To add salt to the wound, as some say, his youngest daughter also died suddenly of intestinal disease. She was attended to by another doctor, who ruled her illness as gastric fever, I believe. Such angels, his children. Poor James, he was absolutely stricken by his wife's and daughter's untimely deaths; I do believe that he would have taken his own life if it were not for his children to think of. But his life did take a turn, for he recovered from grieving rather quickly, and remarried a remarkable woman. Alice Pettridge is her maiden name. I have not met a finer, nobler woman.'

"Now, Watson, you are well aware of my impatience when I hear of men prattle on about the fair qualities of the opposite sex, which is what this doctor began to do, so I tactfully interjected, 'Very good, Doctor, but what, pray tell, are your reasons for seeing me?'

" 'Forgive me, Mr. Holmes. My real reason for calling is for Carmichael's other children. They seem to have contracted the same malady that claimed the life of their youngest sibling. I have prescribed the medication that is commonly used to treat the illness, and I have consulted many of my colleagues, with no results. I know that you are not a doctor, Holmes, but I am aware of your rather eclectic knowledge of many branches of science, and I simply had to come to you, for I do not know who else I can seek advice from.'

"At his speaking, I reached over behind me to one of my many bookshelves, for I have gathered a rather extensive collection as a student, and turned to Chambers's Encyclopedia for some preliminary information.

" ' "Gastric fever," ' I mused to myself, ' "Fever accompanied by stomachic pain." I do not have much information here, I'm afraid. However, I will be more than obliged to help you and your patients as I do not have any immediate plans today.'

"The doctor grasped and shook my hands eagerly, proclaiming his eternal gratitude and the sort, and we fetched a hansom to Mr. James Carmichael's private estate. Upon our arrival, the butler showed us into their rather opulent parlour, complete with lavish paintings by the masters and a grand piano, where we waited for Mr. Carmichael. Within moments, the master of the house appeared through the doorway and gave a fond greeting to the doctor. I had already begun to put my habits of observations into use, and carefully scrutinized the man. He could be no more than thirty-five years of age, yet I could immediately sense that this was a man weighed down by many of life's burdens which few men of his age have experienced. His features were fair but prominent, with the aristocratic nose and dark eyes. Though his hair was naturally dark-coloured, it was well streaked with premature greys that are not common for his age. He was tall, almost comparable to my own height, and well-mannered, clearly a person who was brought up in an affluent environment to grace England's finer social circles. Brighton introduced us, and he shook my hand firmly.

" 'I presume that you have not been in the best of health yourself, Mr. Carmichael?' I remarked gently.

"He looked rather surprised at my elementary comments, coughed, and said, 'Why, yes, Mr. Holmes, though I was sure it was minor enough to pass unnoticed.'

" 'Your face is pale, sir, and the heavy shadows around your eyes display heavy fatigue. The house is quite warm enough for only a couple of layers of clothing, yet I see that you are wearing far more than what should be necessary, and I also noticed that your hands were unnaturally cold when I shook them. You took somewhat small steps for a man of your height, which should not be an issue in an otherwise healthy man.'

"I can assure you, Watson, that James Carmichael was not accustomed to being spoken to in such a blunt manner. Imagine a man of his position having his weakness exposed by a mere student whom he had met only moments ago! Thankfully, the doctor sensed his annoyance and quickly urged him to sit down in a loveseat while I sheepishly positioned myself in an armchair.

" 'Mr. Carmichael,' I began, 'Doctor Brighton here has approached me concerning your case and the mysterious illness of your two children. One daughter has passed away, am I correct?'

" 'Yes, right after the passing of my first wife. I will not attempt to hide the fact that I was grief-stricken by this double tragedy, and I do not know what I would do if it were not for the company of my present wife, Alice. I have not known a nobler woman, Mr. Holmes. She does not come from the same social circle as I do, but has endured and transcended a harsh life as a child. She came to work for our household as a governess for the children, and was like a beacon during my darkest hours. Ah, here she is right now!'

"My young heart did not remain unmoved by Mrs. Carmichael's appearing, Watson. The woman was not a day older than twenty-five, with dark hair and eyes, fair complexion, and slim frame. Her effect upon her husband was remarkable. Glancing over to him, I noticed that his pale cheeks took on a rather healthier colour, and his joy at seeing her gave him a sudden rush of energy instead of the sickliness that he displayed only seconds before. Of course, I tried to harden my emotions against the woman, but did not fail to notice her fine clothing, proud gait, and how she seemed to unconsciously attract the attention of everyone who saw her. I do believe that she would have rivaled Irene Adler herself. We all felt compelled to stand in such a lady's presence.

" 'Oh, James, I did not realize that we had callers,' she said, 'Or else I would not have disturbed you. The maid made some tea and I wanted to bring some to you. Perhaps it would help you cope with this dreary weather we seem to be cursed with.' She suddenly seemed to recognize her visitors, and broke into a smile that made one feel as if all was right with the world. 'Why, hello Dr. Brighton! I am sorry I did not recognize you earlier. What a pleasant surprise to see you; Mrs. Brighton is well, I assume? Give her my love, and I do appreciate all that you are doing for our family. And may I inquire as to who is this other gentleman?'

"The doctor cleared his throat, straightened his coat and said, 'Yes, forgive me for not introducing you earlier, madam. This is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who is helping me with your case, actually. His wide expertise in science should be greatly beneficial to us.'

"She offered me her hand and said, 'Pleased to meet you, Mr. Holmes. I have heard vaguely about you and your many talents. You have even done some detective work?'

" 'I am merely an amateur, and can assure you that as I am still a student, I have not had the chance to entirely devote my time to detective work. However, I can also assure you that I will do everything in my power to help you and your family at the doctor's request.'

" 'That would be greatly appreciated, Mr. Holmes.' She gave me a long, searching look in my eyes and added slowly, 'I must go check on the children, gentlemen. Excuse me,' and exited the room with a final, if smaller, smile at all of us. I could immediately understand Carmichael's undying devotion and admiration of the woman. Her presence seemed to linger on in the room, for we all remained standing, looking after her as she disappeared up the marble staircase to the bedrooms. You must be positively astounded at my reaction, Watson, for I have always chided you about your affinities toward the weaker sex, and I confess that I have not always been fair towards you.

" 'What a fine woman,' murmured Carmichael, as we sat back down. He grimaced a bit, as if in pain. 'As I have alluded to before, she did not come from a privileged family, but she had the wit, independence, and heart to manage her way. Of course, my family did not altogether approve of our marriage, especially after the likes of my first wife, who had a family lineage to boast of. But Alice was orphaned at a young age, with no siblings. I do believe that she had a difficult childhood, but I'm afraid that is the extent of my knowledge concerning her past. She has traveled a bit for her age, all around England.'

" 'Which areas around England, Mr. Carmichael?'" I inquired.

" 'Well, she lived in Manchester before I first met her. Before then, I am not quite sure.'"

" 'How long ago did you meet her?'

" 'Perhaps a few weeks before my first wife passed; a little over a year ago.'

" 'I see. Have you any other children?'

" 'Besides the ones from my first wife, none.'

" 'She has shown no desire to have her own?'

" 'Come to think of it, she has not mentioned it. We have only been married for a few months.'

" 'Any other inhabitants in the house?'

" 'None except for the butler and a couple of maids.'

" 'Very good. When did the children begin to feel ill?'

" 'If I recall correctly, my youngest daughter fell ill shortly after my second marriage. The other two were quite recent, about a week ago.'

"Carmichael was clearly bewildered by the assortment of questions that I put before him. I had a nagging thought in mind when he mentioned Manchester, but I could not quite put my finger on it. I was about to ask him another question when there came a commotion at the door. A young girl, whom I presumed to be a maid, entered the room, face pale.

" 'Doctor, please come quick!' she said with a trace of urgency in her voice, 'Mrs. Carmichael says the children need to be looked at.'

"The pallid, haunted look had returned to Carmichael's face upon the maid's words, and he and the doctor strode to the door. Before ascending the stairs, he spun on his heels and turned to me.

" 'Mr. Holmes, I am very sorry, but the doctor and I must see to my children,' he said crisply, 'I hope to hear from you soon, and I trust that Matthew will show your way out the front door. Good afternoon.' The pompous butler seemed to appear out of nowhere and, without another word, I found myself standing on the front steps facing a closed door.

"I had no other place to go except my own quarters, so I returned to ponder all that I had learned that afternoon. I sat in my armchair for hours, smoking my favourite pipe, and must have fallen asleep for quite a while, for the sun was quite low in the sky when I was awakened by a knock on my door. Imagine my surprise, Watson, when I found that my unexpected caller turned out to be Mrs. Alice Carmichael. I did not know what to do but to usher her into an armchair and offer her some hot tea. I seated myself on an adjacent chair.

" 'Forgive me, Mr. Holmes, for not informing you of my visit,' she said after taking a sip from her teacup and setting it back down. She gave me a demure smile.

'I came to apologize on my husband's behalf for his rather short manner with you before you left. It is not in his manner to behave like that; he has been quite distressed with the children's condition. They have just fallen asleep after taking their medicine and James went out to the gentlemen's club.' She paused and met my eyes briefly before looking away, cheeks flushed. 'I just wanted some company, Mr. Holmes, and to leave my worries behind, even for just a short while. I love my family so, but I cannot bear to stay in my own house at times, knowing that their lives are wasting away before they hardly began.' Her voice trembled, and my heart could not help but reach out to her in her predicament.

" 'Mrs. Carmichael,' I said gently, not wanting to upset her any further, 'I assure you that I will help you. If there is anything else that I can do...'

"She suddenly leaned forward and gripped my hands, her breaths becoming quick and shallow, as if trying to keep her emotions under control.

" I was at a loss, Watson. Especially at my young age, I have had little experience with women, and I grew increasingly uncomfortable. Yet, strange as this seems, I felt almost privileged that I was the source of comfort to such a woman as she. Her fingers were cold but soft against my own scarred and calloused ones. For a moment, I forgot that I was a university student and that she was a married aristocrat. We were simply a man and a woman, brought together under dark circumstances. Under the low light of the lamp, I began to take notice of the details of her face, her dark lashes, her red mouth, and porcelain cheeks. For the first time, I could not think clearly, could not figure out the next thing to do but to appreciate the exquisite beauty that was Alice Carmichael.

" 'Mr. Holmes,' she murmured. I leaned in further as if drawn by a magnet. I was aware that one of her hands had left mine to touch my face. Her eyes were shining brightly as she gave me a grateful and reassuring smile. Before I could react, she brought her face close to mine, and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. I could not help but lean in and enjoy the sensation of another woman's lips upon my face. But, in an instant, my cold, scientist's mind took over and I quickly pulled away.

" 'Mrs. Carmichael, I am sorry, but this is hardly- '

" 'Please, call me Alice. A simple token of a lady's gratitude, Mr. Holmes.'

" The spell was broken, for we had both stood up as if nothing had occurred. Mrs. Carmichael gathered herself up to leave. Before she stepped outside, she turned and said, 'Thank you for your efforts, Mr. Holmes. I trust that you will let me know at once of your progress, I hope.'

" 'I will do my best.'

" 'Farewell, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.'

" 'Good evening...Alice.'

"I must have stood leaning against my doorframe for a full minute after she had gone before I could fully grasp the events that had taken place during her visit. I restlessly walked back into my sitting room, and stared at the vacant chair on which Mrs. Carmichael had sat. The room felt suddenly cold and empty, and I had a fleeting moment of longing for some female companionship. Then my thoughts returned to the case, and I tried to empty myself of all emotions. She was _married_, for God's sake, I said to myself. A good night's rest was what I needed, and in the morning, I would pour myself on solving the case. However, my last thought as I drifted off to sleep was not on the Carmichael children, but on their mother and the lingering token that she left with me."


	2. Chapter 2

The Case of James Carmichael: Part 2

"I awakened the next morning with a start, for I had just remembered a most significant point concerning Alice Carmichael's background. Before I could dwell any further on that thought, however, there was a violent pounding on my front door. Dr. Brighton greeted me with a tired-looking smile. I could immediately sense that he had little to no sleep the previous night, for his clothes were rumpled, his face unshaven and his eyes red-rimmed.

" 'I had a rather busy night at the Carmichaels, Mr. Holmes.' He paused to yawn. 'Would you like to accompany me to their place again? I believe your visit yesterday was cut short, and perhaps you would like to see the children as well.'

"I hurriedly agreed, and for a moment had half a mind to tell him of what had occurred during Mrs. Carmichael's visit, but knew that it would seem treacherous on my part. We arrived at the estate once again, and were once again shown into the sitting room by that sniffing butler. Before long, Mr. Carmichael had joined us, looking even more fatigued and gaunt than I remembered.

" 'Doctor Brighton, Mr. Holmes,' he began, 'I am afraid it has been a rather sleepless night in this household, so you must excuse my appearance. Alice and the children -' He stopped mid-sentence as the maid burst into the room, nearly in hysterics. The three of us jumped up in shock, and Carmichael rushed over to the wailing girl.

" 'Trudy, calm yourself! Whatever is the matter with you?'

" 'Sir! Emily and Peter! Oh!' she struggled to speak between gasps and moans, 'The doctor, quick! They're at death's door!' Upon her words, Dr. Brighton, with Carmichael and I at his heels, rushed up the stairs with his medical bag. He evidently knew his way around the maze of corridors, and reached a door at the end of a hallway.

"The room was evidently a makeshift sickroom, for there were two beds divided by an end table, a couple of rocking chairs and a couch. The end table displayed the remains of an earlier meal, as well as a few bottles of what I assumed to be the prescribed medicine. Mrs. Carmichael was sitting beside the girl, clasping her hand with tears streaming down both cheeks. Gone was the cool, sophisticated demeanor she had presented earlier; she was shaking from the sobs that wracked her small frame. The doctor went immediately to work, checking the pulses and vital signs of each child. He slowly straightened up and began to tidy up his bag, and I knew that we had come too late.

" ' I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Carmichael,' he whispered, clasping the hand of the horrified man beside me, 'They have succumbed. Though I recognize that this is a time to mourn, I suggest that you do not compromise your own health, and take some rest as soon as possible. Mr. Holmes, I believe that this is our cue to leave.'

" 'Let me clean up this table for you before we leave, Mrs. Carmichael,' I said.

" 'That would not...be necessary,' she said, trying to catch her breath.

" 'Please, it's the least I can do,' I insisted. She raised her face to look at me in gratitude and forced a brave smile, but not before I noticed her gaze lingering upon the plates and medicine bottle in my hands. As we walked out, we heard a piercing cry followed by sobs that were no doubt from Carmichael.

"My mind was working like mad from what I had just seen. Dr. Brighton kept his composure, for he had seen far worse than this, and we spoke little as we descended down the stairs and out the front door. As he quietly shut the door behind us, the doctor looked at me and said, 'Holmes, those were two cases of gastric fever. The same thing that killed Polly. But I have never seen them give way this quickly, and at the same time. I must leave now, but I will return tomorrow to certify the death for insurance purposes. I beg of you, please find the cause behind all of this! It nearly tore me apart to see the Carmichael family in such a state.'

"Now, Watson, from all the clues that I have presented to you coupled with your physician's expertise, you should have an idea of why I purposely cleaned the end table. I positively raced home, for I had some research to do before I solidified my speculations. The fact that Mrs. Carmichael came from Manchester a year ago had been dwelling heavily on my mind all morning. I just about ransacked my sitting room looking for my notebook in which I kept important newspaper clippings. My habit of keeping up with crime in the papers was well established by then, and I found the article that I was searching for. "Man and young boy die from mysterious illness," was the title. It is included in that packet in your lap, Watson, if you wish to read it for yourself. You may wonder why I had kept such an inconspicuous article as that among my collection. I had found the circumstances surrounding the dead persons to be notable; their symptoms were similar to those I had encountered over at the Carmichael household. Apparently, in the Hollingsworth household featured in the clipping, the boy died, and his father followed within weeks after coming down with what seemed to be gastric fever. They were survived by only the mother, Eliza who, in her grief and loneliness, left town to start a new life elsewhere. She was never seen again. If you will look right over here under the title, my friend, you will see the year and city: 1878, Manchester."

Sherlock Holmes leaned forward in his chair towards me, eyes glittering in his building excitement.

"I nearly kicked myself for being such an ass, Watson; I should have recognized the signs earlier. The Carmichael and Hollingsworth cases seemed to parallel each other too similarly to be coincidental. I recalled my short time spent at the Carmichaels, and the mesmerizing effect of Alice Carmichael upon me, that nearly blinded me. All the information that Mr. Carmichael and Doctor Brighton presented did not point to illness by disease, but illness by poisoning. The symptoms were characteristic of arsenic poisoning, but I still needed more evidence, more proof, of Mrs. Carmichael's part in the case. This is where the plate and medicine bottle came into use, and I swept my laboratory table clean to perform the needed test. Now there are two possible tests one could use to detect arsenic. The Reinsch test is quick, but oftentimes yields false positive results due to arsenic impurities usually found in copper foil that is needed for the test. I therefore decided to perform the Marsh test, a much slower but highly sensitive test, able to detect the smallest traces of arsenic. As the victims were children, I reasoned that much smaller amounts of arsenic were needed to match their smaller body mass. You can probably feel my triumph when the test came out positive in both the medicine bottle and the plate of food. I was also able to detect minute traces of white substance on the plate with a powerful magnifying glass, confirming my suspicions. I now had the proof of poison, but I needed a witness as to identify the guilty party before I closed the net. I played with the thought of Doctor Brighton himself adding arsenic to the medicine, but quickly ruled it out, for he had no reason to do so; the dreadful substance could easily be added by anybody.

"I set out once again for Carmichael's neighbourhood. After questioning several locals, I found the locations of several apothecaries nearby where one could have easily obtained arsenic. As you know, it is widely used to deal with rats in one's house. The first two leads came nowhere, but the third proved to be more successful. The owner of the store recalled a timid, rather jumpy young girl who needed some rat poison for her mistress. She arrived about a week ago; the timing is consistent with the beginning of the children's sickness. His physical descriptions fit Trudy perfectly, and he could identify her if necessary.

"By now I had little doubt of Mrs. Carmichael's guilt. She had the means and opportunity. But what was the motive? What did she have to gain by poisoning the two children? The first child's death had occurred shortly after her marriage to Carmichael; I was sure she had been poisoned as well. A simple test of the stomach can determine the cause, for arsenic remains in the body long after death. While these thoughts were running through my head, I was quickly making my way towards the Carmichael estate once again. It had become quite late, but Carmichael needed to know about his wife. I began to run out of a growing sense of desperation. I reached the door by nightfall, and banged hard on the knocker.

"The butler who answered the door looked quite annoyed at my unwelcome intrusion, which I ignored.

" 'I'm sorry, sir, but Master Carmichael has retired for the night,' he sniffed pompously.

"I did not have the time to argue with that dim-witted man, so I pushed my way past him and made way for the stairs, with him snapping at my heels. I had to try quite a few doors before I stumbled upon what I presumed to be the master bedroom. I was relieved to see that Carmichael was still awake, for he was sitting up in bed with a teacup in his hand and Mrs. Carmichael standing beside him, holding a teapot. As he raised his lips to the cup, his eyes glanced up in surprise at my appearance. The butler began to babble about my forced entry and trespassing, and promptly left to fetch a policeman. I faced no other choice. I immediately rushed to the unsuspecting Carmichael and gripped my hand around his throat. His hands dropped the teacup and he began struggling and sputtering, but I held firm.

" 'Whatever you do, _do not_ swallow the tea! For God's sake, spit it out!' I said through clenched teeth. After what seemed like an eternity, he spat out a mouthful of the tea. I let go as he began to cough violently.

" '_What is the meaning of this, Holmes_?' he roared.

" 'I think I will allow your wife to explain,' I replied grimly, 'Otherwise known as Eliza Hollingsworth!'

"Just as I expected, Mrs. Carmichael immediately responded to my calling. She realized her mistake a moment too late, for her husband had also noticed her reaction.

" 'I am afraid you are mistaken, Mr. Holmes,' she said calmly and coldly, with none of the emotions she showed me the night before, 'I should let you know that you are indeed unwelcome in our home at this hour, and I shall have you arrested as soon as Matthew returns with the police.' However, her face betrayed her agitation, for it had gone pale and her hands were trembling slightly.

" 'Mr. Carmichael, your wife is responsible for murdering your three children with arsenic, which you will find was also present in your tea. She has been poisoning you slowly, in small doses, to make it seem like an illness. I have noticed earlier yesterday afternoon that you touched your stomach several times as if in pain. Tell me, Mrs. Carmichael, why would you send your servant to the apothecary for rat poison if there were no rats in the house?'

"Before she could protest her innocence, the butler arrived with a policeman.

" 'That's the trespasser, officer!' he pointed out.

" 'No need for this nonsense, Matthew,' I said coolly, 'The real criminal is Mrs. Alice Carmichael here, also known as Eliza Hollingsworth of Manchester, for murdering the three Carmichael children and the attempted murder of Mr. James Carmichael. If you test that cup lying on the bed there for arsenic, you will no doubt find it with a simple chemical test. In fact, if you examine it as well as the teapot with your naked eye, you will see trace amounts of the white substance. I also have here with me a glass vial of what came out of my own testing of the plate and medicine bottle taken after the two children's deaths. See the white residue also? And if you question the servant girl, Trudy, and the local apothecary, they will correlate the fact that Mrs. Carmichael here specifically requested arsenic one week ago, about the same time the two children became sick.'

"I glanced over at Mrs. Carmichael, who had completely transformed at my speech. She had gone deathly pale, her entire body quivering with a look of utter hatred on her face.

" '_Yes_!' she burst out, her stormy eyes flashing with passion and rage, '_Yes_, dear Sherlock Holmes, I am Eliza Hollingsworth! I killed my first husband and children just like your own precious little ones, and would have done the same to you! Do you _men_ ever know what it is like to be a lone woman, penniless, in this God-forsaken society? I worked and worked from being a washerwoman to governess to aristocrat in a matter of years! But what does virtue and diligence matter to you power-hungry, self-centred men anyway, you who demand respect and give none in return? But with money, people stopped turning their aristocratic noses at me. With money, I was able to afford the finer things in life, clothes, jewels, food. With money, I can free myself from marrying self-indulging prigs like you! Once you were gone, everything would have been _mine_!' Alice Carmichael gave a high-pitched laugh; I was sure she had lost her sanity. 'Why do you think, James,' she added slowly and deliberately, 'that I persuaded you have the whole family insured?

"Such was the case of the Carmichael poisoning. Alice Carmichael's confession sealed her fate; further tests upon the bodies of the three children as well as the exhumed bodies of the Hollingsworths proved to be positive. The woman was quite clever, I admit, at hiding her past, moving from one place to another, never staying long enough to raise suspicions. She had various names from before the Hollingsworth marriage: Anne Smith, Jane Wainwright, Mary Hunt. The irony of the situation turned out to be that she could not have collected the insurance money from the two Carmichael children without a death certificate signed by a doctor. Dr. Brighton had intended to certify the death the following day. However, her confession and the evidence were sufficient to convince the jury to convict her; she was eventually hung."

Sherlock Holmes sighed and leaned back into his chair again, blowing smoke rings at the ceiling. He had lost the triumphant gleam in his eyes, and looked quite pensive in a rare expression of human emotion.

"After returning home that night, I could not bring myself to celebrating the fact that I had put a criminal to justice. I felt betrayed, Watson; I had let down my guard with disastrous results that could have been prevented. Alice Carmichael had obviously visited me in an attempt to convince me of her innocence, and for a moment, I had felt certain of my judgment towards her. I had underestimated a woman's seductive powers, and I resolved never to let personal sentiments interfere with another case.

"All in all, she was a victim of society, Watson, bonded by the need for financial security. To this day, I do not feel entirely at ease for having secured the death sentence of a woman who clearly could have done much in life."

" 'Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains,'" I said thoughtfully. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me.

"Why, Holmes, I have heard you mention her before!" I exclaimed, "Right after we first met my wife, who was still Miss Morstan then, we were sitting in this very room and you alluded to Alice Carmichael!"

Holmes gave me a wry smile as he stood up and stretched, the cold, stoic countenance returning to his thin face.

"Well, I am going to bid you an early good-night, my friend. I'm sure you can see your way out."

As he disappeared to his room, I began to collect my coat and hat, shaking my head at what I had learned of Holmes's history and character. I was quietly closing the front door behind me when the slow, haunting notes of the violin reached my ears, the true expression of a man who chose to hide his heart behind a great and brilliant mind.


End file.
